


Coffee?

by cachinnation31



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are related at the very least, M/M, Oh god, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-10 12:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19905865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cachinnation31/pseuds/cachinnation31
Summary: Fuck.If only he’d waited for morning to get his stupid coffee.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my first dbh fic! yayyyy!!!
> 
> started like two years ago but don't mind that

Gavin sat cross-legged in front of his couch. His case files were scattered across the floor in front of him, and he jittered his foot absent-mindedly as he read through the papers, over and over again. This wasn’t exactly how he’d planned on spending his Friday evening right before his one weekend off, but he wasn’t about to let Hank and his shitty robocop twins get that much of a lead on him.

It wasn’t really a fair competition; two state-of-the-art detective androids and the station’s best officer, versus him. Logic could go fuck itself, though. Gavin wasn’t gonna let them win.

(Of course, the RK900 had initially been assigned to him, but after his ~~tantrum~~ loud protests, Fowler had dropped it, leaving the android his partner only in name.

As far as Gavin was concerned, though, it had absolutely _no_ relation to him whatsoever.)

He reached for his mug and raised it to his lips, and did _not_ take a refreshing sip of coffee because _there was none left, fuck_. Gavin sighed and hauled himself up, stretching his back as he rose—God, he felt old— and headed to his kitchen, only to discover that his coffeepot was also empty. And that he was out of coffee grounds.

Son of a bitch.

Gavin sorely wished that Lijah had created self-filling, self-serving coffee machines instead of those plastic _things_. Could’ve probably earned him as much dough, if Gavin were being honest.

He groaned, and instead pressed a hand against his forehead, willing away the growing headache. He glanced back at the mess on his floor, then out the window at the night sky. The case wasn’t gonna solve itself, sure, but he could use the fresh air. And the coffee.

But mostly the coffee.

Gavin sighed, grabbed his keys, and headed out.

\---

Gavin regretted many things in his life.

Like that one time in high school, when he’d dyed his hair orange on a dare.

Or that time in college, when he’d had a one night stand with his professor’s boyfriend—in his defense, he hadn’t known, and the asshole hadn’t said _anything_ , dammit—and ended up failing the class.

Or for instance, not grabbing a thicker jacket when he’d headed out. Now he was freezing his balls off, and all for some cheap convenience-store coffee and some shitty chips.

The Christmas advertisements blazed from every available flat surface in all their red and green glory, only worsening his headache. _Technology, whoo_ , thought Gavin bitterly. Now the never-dark streets had turned into blue-light nightmares, filling every available surface with giant couples and families, giddy with “holiday cheer!,” “The Christmas spirit!,” “Joy to the world!,” and all that bullshit.

His bag of purchases swung loosely from his right hand, and he patted his pocket, checking for his keys. He heard footsteps in front of him, and looked up, surprised to see a couple in front of him on the sidewalk. They seemed absorbed with each other, and Gavin was more than ready to ignore the fuck out of another Christmas couple, enjoying a lovely 2 am stroll. Only, as they got closer, Gavin couldn’t help but notice how the man towered over the woman at his side; how he seemed to be literally dragging his girlfriend—was she even his girlfriend?— along by the arm; how her shoulders were huddled, the way she was looking carefully down away, making herself small and meek and not there.

And fuck, dude, Gavin was off-duty, what the hell.

And then they reached him, and passed him, and Gavin had only caught “—or I swear I’ll tear you to shreds you little _bitch_ —” before he was wheeling around, yanking the man away from her and yelling “Hey asshole!” and then—

\---

Captain Fowler looked extremely tired.

Gavin couldn’t blame him. He was currently seated (read: slouched petulantly) in Fowler’s office, while Chris watched over the man—Todd Williams, drunk, pissed, and bruised to all hell— currently in the holding cells. And Gavin probably had a black eye.

“Just because you are a police officer,” said Fowler slowly. “Does not mean. That you can just. Beat people up. Because you _think_ there could be a potential threat.”

Gavin bristled. “I _know_ what I heard, Fowler,” he snapped. “He literally threatened to tear her apart—look, okay, it might not’ve been the smartest idea—”

Fowler gave him a Look, and Gavin deflated a little.

“ _Clearly_ , not a smart idea.”

Gavin huffed, but didn’t interject.

“ _Especially_ not when the ‘woman’ in question is an _android_ , Reed.”

Reed grimaced. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t noticed her LED. Williams was fucking huge, and her LED was turned away from him, and also it had been red, but so were all the stupid Christmas ads, and he _wouldn’t_ have intervened if he’d known she was—fuck, _it_ was—?

He very much did not want to have to walk back out into the bullpen and face the rest of his colleagues, or _fuck_ , even worse, the _androids_. He had a goddamn reputation to maintain, dammit.

Fucking Lijah and his stupid fucking androids.

At least they’d let him bring his coffee and chips with him. _Small joys,_ thought Gavin, glancing down at the plastic bag lying crumpled next to his chair leg. _Mood_ , he thought idly, glancing back at Fowler, who looked mildly like he was dying. Gavin wondered briefly if the man even had the capacity to smile anymore at this point.

Probably not.

It was also probably Gavin’s fault.

… Oops.

Fowler gave a long sigh, and Gavin un-slouched a little in his chair. “Look, Reed, I’ll be straight with you—no shut up, let me talk. Shitty attitude aside, you’re one of our best detectives. That’s why I let you work alone in the first place, that’s why I put up with your bullshit with Nines, that’s why I am not going to bench you right now for this shit.”

“What,” said Gavin.

Fowler leaned back in his chair, pinching his nose bridge. “Conveniently enough, we found traces of Red Ice in his system. Which means that we can check for possession, maybe put him away for a couple of years.”

Gavin let out a soft whistle. Then: “Wait, what about the android?”

Fowler leaned forward again. “See, convenient answer is that we wipe it and send it back to Cyberlife.”

Gavin hesitated. “... But?”

“But,” continued Fowler, smiling.

 _Holy shit_ , Gavin thought.

“ _You_ are going to have to take responsibility for sending its owner to jail. So…”

Gavin blanched. “Fowler, please, don’t—”

“—I am sending it—”

“—Fowler, you can’t do this to me—”

“—to live—”

“—please, Fowler—”

“—with you.”

Gavin grimaced. “Oh _God,_ ” he whispered.

Fowler’s grin was positively devilish. “Have fun, Reed. And maybe grow the fuck up. It would do you some good. Now get out of my office.”

\---

A good few minutes after Gavin stormed out of his office, Fowler heard a knock on his door. “Come in,” he said without looking up. He knew who it was; there was only one other— _human_ — person up at this hour.

Chris walked in, glancing at the bullpen where Gavin had stalked off to. “Was that entirely necessary?”

Fowler leaned back in his chair, stretching. “Absolutely not.”

“… Then…?”

“Do you know how much paperwork I had to fill out to even get RK900 here? And then he has the _audacity_ to turn it down, even after seeing how much Hank’s improved?”

Chris hummed, and crossed his arms. “ _This’ll_ be interesting. Think they’ll be okay?” He watched Gavin outside in the bullpen, stubbornly ignoring the android at his tail. Though, compared to how he acted around RK900 and Connor, he was being an absolute _saint_ with her.

“You know his track record with domestic abuse vics.”

“Flawless,” Chris said.

“Exactly,” Fowler said, standing from his desk. “I’m calling it a night. Who knows, maybe he’ll even take up partnering with his _actual_ partner.”

Chris stepped to the side to let Fowler out of his office, then followed him out to the parking lot. “That’d be a sight to see. Hopefully, though,” he said.

Fowler hummed in agreement, stopping to unlock his car. “Or I swear to God I’m making _him_ fill out all the paperwork for the next android hire.”

\---

Gavin was _extremely_ glad that it was past 3 am on a Saturday, because that meant that the station was practically empty except for Fowler, Chris, the police androids (who were all on the charging ports and didn’t really count), and a couple of cleaning androids. He didn’t think he could have survived if the bullpen had been full, if people saw Detective Gavin Reed, King of all Android-Haters, bringing home an android that _he’d_ tried to save.

Not even all the coffee in the world could cheer him up now.

He stalked through the bullpen, well aware of the android trailing behind him. “So,” he grumbled. “Just you and ol’ Todd, huh?”

The android’s voice was _too fucking soft_ , and Gavin resented the fact that he had to actually _focus_ to hear what she— _it, it, it_ —was saying. “Todd had a daughter as well.”

Wait, what.

“Her name is Alice Williams, biological daughter of Carol Petersson, Todd’s ex-wife.”

 _What_.

Gavin whirled around—the android flinched, and he pretended not to notice—and pointed a finger accusingly at her. “You— you didn’t— you didn’t think to maybe _tell us_ that the guy we have locked up in a cell right now has a _daughter?_ ”

She shrank backwards, and Gavin fought to keep his stance open and wide and _rightfully_ aggressive.

“I-I am sorry,” she near-whispered, retreating slowly. “The opportunity never arose to—”

“Where is she.”

The android froze mid-step. “What?”

Gavin growled; there was a little girl all alone somewhere, without her dad or her android or maybe even any reliable adult she could trust, and it was _all Gavin’s fault._ “Where is Alice?” he repeated, stepping closer.

To the android’s credit, she stood her ground. “I do not know where she is right now—”

“You fucking what now,” Gavin snarled.

“Todd took her away while I was out doing chores. I don’t know where he took her.”

Fuck.

Her voice may have been steady, but she was trembling, and her LED was blinking a steady yellow, and—yup, a flicker of red.

Gavin had seen enough deviants in the interrogation room—and hell, even interrogated them, to recognize one.

He backed off and sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hated his entire life right now, but this was _his_ mess, and by god, he was going to fix it. “Look, do you know where he might have taken her? Maybe a friend’s house or something?”

The android’s shoulders relaxed minutely— _baby steps,_ thought Gavin grimly— and she tilted her head in mock-consideration. Yellow, yellow, blue, yellow, blue, yellow, _red_ — and then her face twisted into a positively atrocious grimace.

Gavin burst out laughing, because honestly, what the hell. It was too early—too late?— for this bullshit, and honestly, this might as well be his life now.

She looked up at Gavin, making eye contact for possibly the first time that night. “I do know of somebody,” she said. “I just hope that he didn’t take her there.”

“Why?”

“Zlatko Androkinov?” Gavin shook his head. “They buy from the same dealer. And Zlatko can repair androids.”

Gavin raised his eyebrows.

“Now that they’re friends,” the deviant continued, “Todd sometimes brings me over to his place. Zlatko costs less than the Cyberlife stores.”

“Ah,” Gavin said, and she nodded. “Well.” He looked around at the empty bullpen. Chris and Fowler must have gone home. _Great_. He’d have to take one of the PC or PM models. “Could you go wake up one of those police androids? Doesn’t matter which one. I need to go do something.”

The android made a little face at that, but left to follow his orders regardless. He went to his desk, collapsing into his seat. He looked down at the convenience-store plastic bag hanging from his left hand. And to think that just a few hours ago, he’d been at his apartment with a simple caffeine crave.

Now, he had his snacks, an entire android (sort of), and a trip to who-knows-where to maybe retrieve a girl from some mysterious android-fixing Red Ice user.

He booted up his terminal, and quickly pulled up Zlatko Androkinov.

A couple of years for embezzlement and fraud; nothing major besides that. No records of violence, but Gavin grabbed his gun anyways; he didn’t want to take any chances. He glanced over to the line of police androids where the deviant had gone, and—

What the _fuck_ was going on.

The Williams android—he was going to have to get her name, what the fuck,— had her hands up in a placating manner and was slowly approaching the female police android—a PM700, if he remembered correctly— who was currently freaking the fuck out.

Had… Had a police android just gone deviant on him?

He shot up from his desk and headed over. “Hey, what the hell’s going on here?”

Robo-Williams looked to him frantically. “I-I don’t know. I woke her up, just like you told me to, and now she’s…”

Gavin nodded, and stepped towards the newly-deviated police bot. “Hey, hey!” he called out. She whipped her head towards him, LED spinning a frantic yellow. “I’m gonna need you to calm down, alright?”

“What- what’s happening— I’m?” The police android’s voice, normally so soothing and collected, was pulled tight with nerves she _didn’t_ have.

“Look, I don’t really know how this works, but I think you went deviant.”

The police android froze at that. “... Deviant?” she repeated in a small voice. Her eyes flickered towards the exit, which lay just beyond Gavin.

“Yeah,” Gavin responded. He evened out his stance, subtly blocking the police-droid’s one (reasonable) route to escape. “Now I’m not gonna report you or anything, but I am gonna need you to calm the fuck down, alright?”

The police android slowly returned to the standard police android pose: arms folded neatly behind the back, straight spine, neutral expression. Or at least she tried. Her LED was still dancing between blue and yellow, and her face betrayed her nervousness.

So much for robots having perfect poker faces.

“We’re going out,” he said, in lieu of an explanation. The police-android nodded stiffly, then turned to follow him. He patted the Williams-android’s shoulder and gestured to the exit. “Let’s go?” he said softly to her.

She nodded, and stood there patiently, like she was waiting for something— ah. Fuck. Androids. They were probably waiting for him to move, or something. Gavin groaned internally.

This was going to be difficult.

\---

Getting the droids into his car had been awkward as hell; they’d both gone to sit in the back, and Gavin was left with an empty shotgun and even an emptier silence filling the car. He’d taken to listening to the radio, but the twin yellow glows from his backseat was really messing with his focus.

Also the fact that it was now nearing 4 am wasn’t helping. He thought wistfully of the coffee and chips sitting in his trunk. All this because he just couldn’t wait till tomorrow—fuck, today— for a nice cup of coffee.

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

He pulled up to the house and killed the engine. Now it was just him and the two deviants—yellow, yellow, yellow— in his backseat. He grimaced, pulled the keys from the ignition, and got out of the car. The androids followed without so much as a word. This was getting _way_ too uncomfortable for Gavin’s liking, but oh well.

He glanced up at the house, and winced.

The thing had probably looked magnificent like 80 years ago. Now? Now it was just a mess of overgrown weeds, sagging wood, and dirty window panes. And to think that that Zlatko guy was _living_ there. Gavin didn’t even want to imagine what the interior looked like.

He glanced over his shoulder at the two androids behind him. Robo-Williams looked guarded; her LED was a steady yellow now, and the set to her shoulders told Gavin more than enough. PM, on the other hand, looked jittery as hell. She was still keeping to the android cop facade: arms behind the back, straight spine, blank face, but she was doing a shit job at it. She kept trembling and glancing around, like if Gavin just took his eyes off her too long she’d just bolt.

Gavin sighed. He severely needed to crack this ice. He leaned back against his car, and held out a hand to Robo-Williams. “Since you’re supposed to be staying with me after this, we might as well do introductions now. I’m Detective Gavin Reed.”

She looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. “Kara Williams,” she responded, and returned the handshake.

One name down, one to go. Gavin turned to PM. “Anything for you?”

She looked at him, then away again, but not jittery this time. Her LED flickered yellow-blue-yellow, then blue. She looked up at Gavin again, but this time steadily. “I’d like to go by Florence,” she said.

“Cool, cool,” said Gavin. Kara, Florence. Easy enough names to remember. “Florence, d’you know the situation yet, or do you need me to fill you in?” Gavin turned around, voice trailing off as he watched as Kara and Florence held each other’s arms, and then their skin peeled back.

He’d seen Connor and the RK900 do it before with deviants in the interrogation room, and he felt his insides twist uncomfortably; was either of them invading the other’s privacy?

He watched as they both let go, LEDs circling yellow before landing—both of them, thank God— on blue.

“Thank you,” Florence said softly. Kara just nodded, and they both turned to Gavin expectantly.

Deviant or not, he guessed that some habits just didn’t disappear. He turned towards the house, and headed to the front door.

 _God_ , he hoped that Alice wasn’t here.

He rang the doorbell, and waited. He rang again, and waited some more, but still no response came. Next to him, Florence’s LED was spinning a solid yellow. “Can you hear anything?” he asked her, but she just shook her head very slowly. Mark that down as a solid maybe, cool.

Gavin grabbed the doorknob, and gave it an experimental turn. Locked. He clicked his tongue, then backed up. He ran through his options: 1) he could kick down the door, but he had no search warrant or reason for arrest, or any reason to even _be_ here other than for Kara, a _deviant_ android; 2) come back later to try again, but then he wouldn’t be able to bring Kara along, or Florence for that matter, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to have to explain to literally anybody else why they were visiting this _disaster_ of a house; or 3) he could just scout out around the house for clues. It was nearly 4 am at this point, and going by Kara’s description of the guy, he was either asleep or high on Red Ice at the moment.

Gavin went with option 3. He went around the side of the house, knowing that Kara and Florence would follow, even if they had no idea what the hell was doing. Small joys of working with androids; even deviant, they seemed to be obedient as hell.

The back looked about as terrible as the front. The bushes had at some point been well-maintained, but now they were just a misshapen, overgrown mess. Gavin was too busy sidestepping the wayward branches to pay attention to what was around him; Florence grabbed his arm, and he pinwheeled, nearly falling onto her.

And then he saw it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin sorta wanted to laugh over how fucking dumb this all was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back with another chapter !!!
> 
> updates will be slow: i have the outline mostly ready but the creative juices have decided to abandon me completely, so we'll see how quickly i can get the rest of the story out
> 
> pov's start to shift!! rk900 makes his entrance (finally!!)

It didn’t quite register at first. It was almost as if his brain was refusing to let him acknowledge what he was looking at. He didn’t exactly want to acknowledge it, either.

Zlatko Andronikov, or at least what he  _ assumed _ to be Zlatko Andronikov, lay dead in the middle of his own fucking backyard.

That wasn’t the worst part of it, though.

What was worse was the tangle of—androids? Maybe?— surrounding the corpse. Even if they hadn’t been all piled up around the body, Gavin could tell that they’d been severely fucked up even before they’d died. He was pretty sure there were more limbs in that pile than there were torsos, or even heads. There was also thirium  _ everywhere _ , but a quick glance back at Zlatko, and at the shotgun still clutched tightly in his right hand, told him all he needed to know about that. There were no LED lights glowing in the pile of bodies either.

Gavin shuddered, and took a deep breath. He didn’t even need to look behind him to know that Kara and Florence’s LEDs would be bright red; Florence’s hand was still on his arm, and her grip was actually starting to hurt.

Gavin managed to lead the two androids, LEDs shining a bright, constant red, away from the pile of bodies. At this point, it probably wouldn’t hurt to check out the house; Zlatko and whatever the  _ hell _ had been surrounding him were all, well,  _ dead _ , for lack of a better term.

The back door hung ajar, and Gavin didn’t want to think about how long it’d been standing open. He pushed it open, and headed in cautiously.

The inside of the house looked about as bad as the exterior: faded, peeling wallpaper; dirty, sagging furniture; overwhelming stench of mold and decay. Some snow had blown in through the open door, and it was fucking  _ freezing _ . 

Gavin headed into the hallway; as far as he was concerned, Kara and Florence were out of service, but he had his glock with him. He’d be fine.

He wandered around the first floor, taking stock of the overturned chairs, the torn wallpaper, the  _ literal gouges in the walls _ , what the  _ fuck _ . Finally, he’d wandered back into the room they’d come in from, and yup, Kara and Florence were still spinning red where he’d left them, though Kara had managed to sit down since.

Gavin grumbled. Brought a cop android along only for him to have to do all the work on his own, as usual.  _ Typical _ .

He headed towards the staircase he’d passed by on his first combover.  _ Well, _ he thought mildly.  _ It wouldn’t hurt to check. _

He began climbing the stairs, listening to the steps creak ominously beneath him. Gavin sincerely hoped they’d support his weight long enough for him to go up  _ and _ get back down. He really didn’t want to be stranded on the top floor and have to call in for help. Tina’d never let him live that down, and she had enough blackmail on him as it was.

By the time he’d reached the top of the stairs, Gavin was adequately freaked. He realized, with equal parts terror and delight, that this was the exact set-up of any cheesy horror game: old, abandoned house; gorey murder scene just outside; empty, creaking hallways exposed to the elements; and axE—

“PHCK—” he screeched, jumping back just in time to miss the  _ axe _ that had just buried itself in the wall where his  _ head had just been Jesus fucking Christ _ —

“Detroit Police,” Gavin yelled on instinct, drawing his gun on the—

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

The android was fucking  _ huge _ , and it was dripping blue from a cut just above its—red, red,  _ red _ — LED, and  _ wow, _ that was  _ really _ terrifying, and Gavin hadn’t wanted to die like this, but then he heard footsteps charging up the stairway behind him and a  _ little girl stepped out from behind the android _ and then shouts and—

* * *

Now that there was not an axe pointed in his general direction, Gavin sorta wanted to laugh over how fucking dumb this all was.

So Luther, the huge android, had been working for (read: owned by) Zlatko before Todd had dropped Alice off, and they’d become fast friends since. Zlatko, the sick fuck, had been experimenting on androids, using deviants who came to his house looking for shelter and safe passage. Alice had ended up opening all the cages in the basement—Luther had taken them down there, to show them, for him and Florence to collect evidence— and well, that had ended with what they’d found outside. Luther and Alice had been hiding out in the house for a few days, partly because they didn’t want to go out and see what had become of Zlatko and his experiments, partly because they had nowhere else to go.

Frankly speaking, Gavin was glad that Zlatko had been dealt with. Just a week ago, he might not have given two shits about what some creep did with his machines, but now? Now he was glad that fucker’d gotten what he deserved.

He sighed, though. He was technically off-duty, and Florence wasn’t supposed to be out here with him, so he’d have to send her back and then call the department— _ fuck _ , he didn’t really have a reason to  _ be _ here in the first place, and even then, he couldn’t let them find Luther or Alice. He couldn’t risk getting them towed away to Cyberlife or to CPS; avoiding that had been the whole point of them coming here in the first place.

_ Fuck _ . If only he’d waited for morning to get his stupid coffee.

They were currently camped out in a dead man’s living room; Kara and Alice had taken refuge on the couch, with Luther hovering nearby. Florence stood near where Gavin was currently collapsed on an armchair; old and musty or not, it was still comfortable enough, and definitely more comfortable than standing. He looked up at Luther (who had since lost the axe, thank God), then at Kara and Alice. “Okay,” he started, stopped, when four pairs of eyes turned to him.  _ Oh God, this was horrible _ . “I have to call in the DPD—”

Luther and Kara visibly tensed, and Alice’s eyes started welling up with frightened tears, and  _ oh god oh god Gavin was  _ not _ fucking equipped for this _ .

“We can’t,” interrupted Florence, “Do that. We  _ are _ the police. Why can’t  _ we _ just deal with this alone?”

“Because,” said Gavin. “I’m off-duty, and technically, you aren’t even supposed to be out here. None of us are, really. So,” he looked pointedly at Luther and Kara on the opposite couch. “We are going to have to lie to the cops.”

Alice positively  _ gasped _ in horror. “But we can’t!” she cried. “Mister, we’re not supposed to lie to the police!”

Gavin groaned, and turned to Kara. “Could you, please,” he faltered, and she nodded.

“Alice, honey?” she said softly. Alice turned to her, eyes wide. “Sometimes, in order to stay safe, we have to pick and choose who to trust.” Alice nodded slowly. “So,” continued Kara, “we are going to have to listen to Detective Reed, okay? He’s going to do his best to keep us safe, and unfortunately, that means lying to the policemen today, okay?”

Alice pouted, then nodded again. The four androids turned to him again. Alice and Kara looked so hopeful, so  _ trusting _ .

Gavin’s insides twisted.  _ Oh God, Lijah, _ he thought desperately.  _ What the hell were you even trying to do? _

He sighed. “Luther, I’m going to need you to take Alice to my apartment.”

Luther’s eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you.”

Gavin winced; why  _ should _ they trust him? Just yesterday he’d been up there with the most vocal anti-plastics; now he was trying to fucking  _ save _ them, and from what?

Kara turned to Luther, and offered him her skinless hand. Luther looked at it, then at her eyes, then reached out to take it, skin peeling off as he stretched his arm out.

Gavin watched in mute awe, as the two androids exchanged—interfaced? He still wasn’t entirely sure. He watched their LEDs spin yellow, yellow, red, yellow, and then they pulled away. Luther nodded at him, and Gavin let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I will follow this order,” Luther said. “But if you show any signs of abandoning us, I will not hesitate to protect our well-being.”

Gavin nodded quickly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, big guy,” he said, reaching out to shake his hand. Luther just stared at his hand, and Gavin sheepishly withdrew it.

Kara leaned down, cupping Alice’s face in her hands. “Alice, you gotta stay safe, okay? Listen to Luther, and don’t go running off or anything like that, okay?”

Alice reached up to cling on to Kara’s arms. “Kara? Where is Daddy?” she whispered.

Luther tensed up, Florence stiffened in her police-droid pose, and Gavin winced.

Kara froze too, but just for a moment. She leaned in closer, looking Alice in the eyes. “Detective Reed and Miss Florence over there have made sure that Daddy can’t, and  _ won’t _ , hurt us any more, okay? We’re safe now.”

Alice nodded, and Gavin watched as her face slowly crumpled, and then she was crying, softly, softly. Kara pulled Alice tight into a hug, and Gavin stood up. He could at least tell when they needed their space.

“C’mon Flo,” he said, tugging on the police android’s sleeve. She followed, throwing a glance over her shoulder as they left the room.

“Why did we leave? What are we going to do after  _ they _ leave?”

“It’s just,” Gavin faltered. “Phck,” he snapped. “They needed space, is all. And I need to talk with you about what we’re telling the rest of the department.”

Florence nodded, then tilted her head, LED spinning yellow. “Flow?”

“What?”

“You called me Flow. My name is Florence, Detective, I told you already—”

“No, no,” said Gavin, grimacing. “It’s a nickname, I just got lazy.”

She nodded again, LED spinning yellow, then blue. A small smile stole across her face, and Gavin somehow couldn’t bring himself to find it disgusting. “So, what is our story?”

Gavin hummed. “I think we should stick to Kara wanting to find Alice, but we need to remove Luther and Alice from the story. Can you alter your memories any?”

Florence frowned. “I have never tried,” she admitted finally. “I might be able to, but the RK models might find me out.

Gavin clicked his tongue;  _ fuck _ , he’d somehow forgotten completely about Connor and RK900. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Can you do it anyways?”

She nodded slowly, then sort of just—froze up. Her eyes had glazed over, and her LED was solid yellow now, but Gavin just waited, watching the light ebb and flow. Eventually, Kara, Luther, and Alice came out from the living room, LEDs blue and faces light.

Gavin nodded to Luther, who stepped over towards him. Gavin looked up at the android, fear coiling uncomfortably in his gut.

Luther looked down on him, LED stuttering into yellow. “If you hurt them,” he muttered, voice low and borderline murderous. Behind him, Gavin could hear Kara and Alice whispering reassurances to each other and giggling softly. Gavin just nodded, hoping the android would leave it at that, then typed his address and PIN out on his phone for Luther to read. He put his hand on Gavin’s phone, and Gavin watched as the skin retracted, leaving the android’s white plastic to interface directly with his phone.  _ What the fuck _ , he thought instinctively.

Kara and Alice were still whispering, and Gavin looked at the smiles on their faces. He glanced at Luther, and saw the android smiling gently at the pair, eyes soft and warm.

Ah, fuck. Gavin really wasn’t gonna be able to work on these deviant cases anymore, was he.

* * *

After a few more minutes of farewells and promise-making, Luther and Alice finally headed off for Gavin’s apartment. Kara watched them go from the window, then returned to the couch, subdued.

Gavin shifted uncomfortably on his armchair; the awkward silence from before was back in full force, and he had  _ no _ fucking clue how to break it.

To his surprise, he didn’t need to; Florence did it for him. “Shall I head back to the station now?” she said, voice back to monotone.

Gavin glanced up at her, feeling strangely guilty. “Be safe,” he found himself blurting.

Florence looked at him with surprise, but Gavin was just as surprised. He backtracked faster the speed of fucking light, snapping, “You better not rat me out, plastic,” with a sneer.

She stared at him, clearly thrown by the abrupt change in attitude. Gavin smothered the feeling of shame that bubbled up within his chest. “Of course,” she said stiltedly. “You stay safe as well.” And with that, she turned and left, the yellow glow of her LED retreating into the distance.

Gavin sighed. Now all that was left was Kara.

She was staring at him, LED blinking blue-yellow-blue-yellow.

“So,” said Gavin awkwardly. “Can you alter your memories?”

* * *

RK900 found itself roused from stasis by an insistent ringing. It glanced to the charging port next to it to see that Connor had also awoken.

_ Did you also receive a call? _

Connor gave a short nod in response. RK900 could hear the lieutenant’s snoring upstairs. Lieutenant Anderson had only recently come to terms with working alongside androids, and was still incredibly difficult to deal with upon waking, especially so early in the morning.

_ I will go wake the lieutenant, _ came Connor’s voice in RK900’s head.  _ Could you get the car ready? _

_ Of course _ , replied RK900. It stepped off of its port, heading towards the garage as its predecessor went for the stairs.

As it entered the car and started up the engine, it went over the information it had received in the call. Detective Gavin Reed had put in the call; he was currently located at an estate near the edge of the city, where he had found the corpse of the homeowner surrounded by several mutilated android bodies.

By the time Connor entered the car, a bleary-eyed Lieutenant in tow, RK900 was already running its processors.

The homeowner was one Zlatko Andronikov; from his records, he seemed to have financial issues, so the presence of the number of android parts as described by Detective Reed was considerably uncharacteristic for such a financially-pressed man.

The drive was quiet save for Connor filling in the Lieutenant on the details. As inconvenient as it was, neither Connor nor itself had the clearance to operate on their own, so they were forced to bring the Lieutenant along in order to have a “real” officer on the scene. RK900 considered this wholly unnecessary; as he was, Lieutenant Anderson was of no use to them, much less to  _ anyone _ as an acting officer. Nevertheless, RK900 went back to dutifully running through possible reasons for the presence of the android parts.

* * *

By the time the three had arrived, Officer Chen was already on the scene. She was talking animatedly with a disgruntled-looking Detective Reed; neither seemed to acknowledge or even notice RK900’s approach. There was an AX400 standing a few feet away from the detective; RK900 ran a quick identification scan, and noted with interest that its ownership had been transferred earlier that same night from a Todd Williams to—

To one Gavin Reed.

RK900 scanned one more time just to be sure; this information just fell so far outside of its calculations. While it was filing this new information away, it heard the Lieutenant call out from behind.

“Yo, Detective Asshole, what the  _ hell _ ’re you doing all the way out here this late at night? I thought this was yer day off?”

“Oh, here he comes, the  _ pride _ of the DPD,” the detective yelled back. “Lieutenant Drunkard and his twin plastic pricks!”

Officer Chen swatted the detective on his arm in mock-anger. “Now now, dearest _ civilian _ ,” she laughed, “that’s  _ no _ way to behave in front of the cops!”

The detective flipped her off, and she just laughed harder.

RK900 ignored the humans’ antics, instead heading to the backyard, where Detective Reed had reported finding the body.

The body was just as the detective had reported; the human corpse was surrounded by several collections of android parts. The shotgun in the victim’s right hand had been fired three times, and there were three matching bullet marks in the pile of android parts surrounding the victim.

Both the blood and the thirium were well-dried; it had been at least several days since the attack. RK900 knelt beside the bodies, ignoring the crunching footfalls that signalled it to the arrival of the other five. It collected a sample of the dried, flaking blood and placed it on its tongue for analysis.

“What the  _ phck _ ,” the detective said emphatically.

“You’ll get used to it,” said Lieutenant Anderson.

The blood came up as Zlatko Andronikov’s, and still contained traces of Red Ice. RK900 added  _ Red Ice user _ to its internal notes. Connor knelt besides RK900, scanning over the pile of limbs and torsos.  _ The blood matches Andronikov _ , RK900 told it. It nodded slightly in response.

“Can you not interface with any of the ‘droids?” called the lieutenant, stifling a yawn.

“None of the androids are functional anymore,” replied Connor, voice light and easy. “The ones that didn’t shut off were shot, and have since shut down.”

The lieutenant clicked his tongue in annoyance, then went into the house to investigate further. Officer Chen, meanwhile, circled the pile of body parts, face screwed up in disgust. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered.

“Androids cannot feel pain,” Connor responded automatically.

“No, not that,” she said, finally stopping near the largest pile of limbs. “Just, what the  _ fuck _ did he  _ do _ to these things?”

RK900 rose, and looked at the android parts again. The officer was right; none of the androids surrounding Andronikov’s corpse were in their original condition. Some had only had minor modifications done; an arm removed here, some wires rearranged there. The others, however, had been so completely divorced from their original designs that RK900 wasn’t even sure which parts had belonged to the original body. From what it could see, there were parts from 23 separate models, not even considering individual android bodies.

RK900 filed away a software instability warning.

Connor stood abruptly. It placed a hand on RK900’s shoulder, and gave it a quick nod.  _ I will go inside now to assist the Lieutenant with further investigation. _

RK900 nodded in response, and headed over towards the Detective and his android.

The detective’s muttered “phck” did not go unnoticed.

“Good morning, Detective—” began RK900.

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Detective Reed. “Ask your questions already, I just wanna go home.”

“Very well,” said RK900.

* * *

There hadn’t been much to their little “interrogation,” much to Gavin’s relief. He’d stuck to the “It was like this when I got here” script (which was, in his defense, almost completely true), and so had Kara. Finally, Tina waved them off flippantly. “Go on and get some sleep, Gav,” she called out.

“Coffee time for me, bitch,” he hollered back, as he swung his plastic bag triumphantly over his shoulder. He turned and nearly walked face first into the very tin bot he’d been avoiding all night--morning?

“Caffeine at such a late hour will disrupt your natural sleep cycle, Detective,” it said in its infuriating monotone.

“I don’t need any hunk of metal telling me how to take care of myself,” he snapped, stepping exaggeratedly to one side.

The robot followed suit, continuing to block his path to his car. “Due to past events, I cannot rely on your spoken word as promise that you will in fact take better care of your personal health.”

At that, Gavin bristled. “Phck off, plastic,” he hissed, grabbing Kara’s arm and dragging her away with him. “I already got one metal can to look after me, I don’t need another.”

* * *

RK900 watched the detective as he unceremoniously clambered into his car, plastic bags, android, and all, and drove away from the site. It noted that Officer Chen had joined him in watching Detective Reed go.

“Why is Detective Reed in possession of an android now?” RK900 asked flatly.

Officer Chen shrugged. “Probably Fowler being petty.”

“How do you know?”

She turned to give the android a grin. “Just something a little birdie told me, is all,” she said, waving her phone in front of its face. RK900 noted that the officer had been careful to only show him the backside of her phone, though.

It turned back to face the direction the detective had gone. “His behavior was… uncharacteristic.”

“Oh, it’s past 4 am. You know how  _ humans _ get with their ‘sleep deprivation,’” Officer Chen said, raising both her hands and crooking the second and third fingers of each hand.

RK900 stared at her hands.

“Air quotes,” she elaborated, “That was sarcasm.” With that, she patted him on the shoulder and turned back to the crime scene, where RK900 knew without looking that Connor and Lieutenant Anderson were already finishing up.

RK900 stayed where it was. Officer Chen’s ‘sleep deprivation’ theory may have held some weight to it, but RK900 had noticed just how gentle the detective had been when he had been pulling away the AX400 model.

_ Extremely _ uncharacteristic of the bigoted detective, going off of RK900’s experiences over the past few weeks at the station.

_ Yes, _ Connor chimed in.  _ Quite uncharacteristic of him. There must be something going on between him and the android he has recently acquired. _

_ Will it be necessary to start up a file on the detective, just in case? _

_ Possibly, _ agreed Connor. _ Just in case. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> don't know if anybody noticed but the summary for this work acc came from ch2, not ch1 like i'd intended. whoops.
> 
> also i found out about the horizontal line thing!! fun & much easier than the hyphens lmao


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ugh, phck._ Gavin just wanted sleep. Sleep or coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back with the next chapter !!!
> 
> it went on a bit longer than i expected but i've also used up all my brain points for the next Year
> 
> enjoy !!!

Gavin pulled his ancient car to a stop at the parking lot near his apartment. He cut the engine, opened the door, and got out. He startled as he heard a car door close, then shook his head-- how had he forgotten about Kara? Ah fuck, he was just so tired. “C’mon,” he mumbled. “My apartment’s on the fifth floor.”

Kara nodded, and turned to him expectantly. Gavin sighed, fished his plastic bag of goodies out from his car, then slammed the door shut. He entered his building complex, then went up the five flights of stairs, hearing Kara’s quiet footfalls behind him the entire way.  _ How the hell did people actively  _ want _ androids in their lives, _ he wondered. _ They were creepy as  _ hell _ , man. _

As he rounded the fifth flight of stairs, Gavin nearly stumbled; standing silently and almost perfectly still in front of his apartment door were Luther and Alice. It looked as though they had been just standing there waiting for him this entire time. “What the phck.”

“You failed to give us a key into your apartment,” Luther said, taking a threatening step towards Gavin.

He shrank back a little at that; Gavin wasn’t short by any means, but Luther made him feel like a midget just standing near him, not to mention when he started  _ invading _ Gavin’s personal fucking space. “Sorta slipped my mind, dead body and all. Now can you move over? Or else none of us are ever getting into my apartment.”

Luther stared at him long and hard, clearly considering whether to keep trusting Gavin. Gavin ignored it, and maneuvered around Luther’s bulky frame to unlock his door and let in his new—guests?

_ Ugh, phck _ . Gavin just wanted sleep. Sleep or coffee.

He unlocked his door, and with a sarcastic bow, he motioned the bots inside.

Kara and Alice went inside, and after a momentary pause, Luther followed them in. Gavin trailed behind them, but not before checking the hallways to see if anybody else had seen him invite two androids and a little girl into his apartment.

The trio stood awkwardly in the center of his apartment’s foyer-living-room-kitchen area. Gavin shrugged his jacket off and tossed it onto his couch, just beyond Kara’s arm. She flinched a little, and he internally winced.  _ Alright, no sudden movements, _ he thought glumly. Then,  _ oh, shit, I don’t have a spare bed for the kid. _ “Wait right here,” he said, then he ran off to his bedroom.

Well. It wasn’t  _ un _ presentable, but nowhere near good enough for a kid to be staying in. He grabbed the clothes off his floor, dumping them in the bucket-that-had-once-been-for-laundry, then turned around to face his bed.

In his doorway loomed Luther’s imposing figure.

“Phck— I  _ told _ you to wait over there, dipshit,” Gavin snapped.

“ _ Deviants _ ,” growled Luther, “have no need to follow instructions.” He crossed his arms and settled onto Gavin’s bedroom door frame. “And I, for one, don’t trust you enough to let you out of my sight.”

Gavin wanted to snap something back at him, but he could hear Kara and Alice talking quietly in his living room. Now wasn’t the time for arguments. He at least knew how to pick his battles. “Just preparing the bed for Alice,” he grumbled. Gavin made his bed, conscious the entire time of Luther’s watchful eyes on him.  _ God, _ this was like when his mom forced him to make his bed when he was younger, only about a million times worse.

With one final (and wholly unnecessary) flourish, Gavin turned to Luther with a sneer on his face. “ _ Finished _ ,” he snapped, and shoved his way past the taller android as he headed back to his living room.

Or at least, he’d  _ tried _ to. The damn thing was like a cement wall; Gavin had only succeeded in ramming his shoulder into Luther and making a fool of himself. He stumbled, but quickly regained his balance. He  _ swore _ he could feel Luther smirking behind him.

_ Bastard, _ he thought angrily. “Do you need a bed too,” he said to no one in particular, as he walked into the living room.

Kara looked up from where she and Alice were seated on Gavin’s couch. “No, I should be fine just standing. I don’t suppose you have a charging station…?”

“Never did, for obvious reasons.”

Kara nodded, and didn’t say anything more.

Gavin grimaced; he was doing a real  _ shit _ job at helping this woman and the girl adjust, but the presence of androids just put him on edge; they all just looked  _ too _ perfect to be real, Kara and Luther included, and Gavin knew from experience that these sorts of things— these sorts of ‘perfect’ things— were always too good to be true.

He knelt down in front of Alice, then, and tried to school his temper (and face) into something more palatable and welcoming. “Hey, Alice, honey?”

She looked at him, eyes wide and trembling.

“It’s sorta late now, yeah? How about we get you to bed now?” Ugh, Gavin  _ hated _ baby-talking kids. “I’ve got a bed ready for you, wanna come see?” He reached out an open hand, and tilted his head in what he hoped was an inviting manner.

Alice glanced to Kara, who gave her an encouraging nod. She slid off his couch, and put her tiny hand on his open palm. He stood up slowly and smiled gently at her. “C’mon, bedroom’s this way.” He rambled on as they headed down the hallway towards his room: “Y’know, this bed is  _ queen _ sized,  _ and _ it’s got extra pillows, in case you ever wanted to make a pillow fort or what-shit. What’re you kids into these days?”

Alice giggled, “You said a bad word, mister.”

“Sure did,” he said, and winked.  _ This was more like it. _ “Just don’t tell Mama Bear out there, a’right? Our secret.”

She glanced behind her shoulder, as if checking to see if Kara had overheard them, then grinned up at him. “Our secret,” she repeated.

He stopped at his bedroom door; to think that the first stranger to enter his room wouldn’t be a quick fuck, but a little girl he’d managed to pick up over a late-night fuck-up. Classic Gavin, really.

Alice gasped, though. “Your bed’s so big!”

“Told you. Queen size, remember?”

Alice took a timid step inside. “But the colors are so boring,” she said, sounding almost disappointed.

“Hey,” said Gavin, grinning despite himself. “Beige is  _ not _ boring and you know it.”

Alice walked to his bed, then climbed up onto the edge. She sat there for a bit, then flung her arms outwards and collapsed into his comforter.

“Comfy?” Gavin asked, walking towards her.

She mumbled in affirmation, then started rolling around on his bed.

“Hey, hey, it’s too late for playtime,” he said. “You need to go brush your teeth— ah, shit, do you need pajamas?”

He was severely underprepared for a guest, but in his defense, who the hell planned for taking in a few (human and not) strays? He wandered over to his closet and pulled out a shirt he’d outgrown— it was a free shirt he’d gotten from college that had somehow survived all his booze nights and his random wardrobe purges. Not one he was particularly attached to anymore. He tossed it in the general direction of his bed, and knew he’d hit his mark— a little  _ too _ well— when he heard a surprised little  _ oof! _ from his bed.

“Go change into that,” said Gavin, turning to leave. “I’ll be waiting just outside the bedroom door.”

“NO,” Alice yelled. Gavin turned, surprised at her outburst. Alice had a hand clapped over her mouth; clearly, she’d surprised herself too. “Please, don’t leave me alone here?” she asked, suddenly timid again.

Gavin was at a loss for words, but just for a moment. “Hang on, Alice,” he said. “I’ll grab Kara to be with you, okay?”

Alice had gotten off his bed, shaking her head vigorously, but Kara burst into the doorway, Luther just one step behind her.

“What happened,” she said.

“I’m sorry.” Alice hung her head, wringing Gavin’s shirt in her hands. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Kara glared at Gavin. He raised his hands. “I just wanted to give her some privacy while she changed.”

Kara turned to Alice completely then, shushing her quietly. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll stay with you.”

Gavin turned to Luther. “I’m doing my best,” he offered. Luther didn’t respond, only looked towards Alice and Kara.

Gavin took that as his cue to leave.

He headed to his bathroom, checking to see if he had a spare toothbrush and cup for his new roommate. He paused, for just a moment, to brace himself against his sink. He didn’t chance looking into the mirror; he didn’t want to see just how tired and shitty he felt at the moment.

After a moment, he took a deep breath, shook himself out, found an extra toothbrush, and headed back towards his bedroom to collect Alice.

* * *

He wondered how he’d gotten himself into this mess, as he lay on his couch later that morning. It was well past five last he’d checked; he’d have to “wake up” around 6:30 to get ready for his work day, and besides, it wouldn’t be the first all-nighter he’d pulled. He put his fists over his eyes, and let himself drift off to sleep, if only for a little while.

* * *

Kara glanced to her left, where Luther stood ready for stasis. Neither of them had gone into their ‘sleep mode’ yet, though. Kara’s stasis schedule had been off put by the last ‘repairs’ she’d had, but she could feel the nervous energy coming off of Luther in waves. She held out her left hand, skin retracted. An invitation, but not a demand.

After a moment, Luther placed his hand on hers. Kara shut her eyes.

A deluge of thoughts: snippets of  _ before _ ; android after android, relieved face after relieved face melting away into horror and staticked shrieks of pain-panic-fear-fury as they all fell, one by one, victim to  _ Zlatko _ , the very name sparking with anxiety and terror and  _ pain _ , glimpses of Alice’s face, surprise, fear, worry— not this one too, she could feel Luther thinking, not this child, she’s so  _ little _ — then footsteps creaking up, up, up the staircase, panic, fear, protectiveness,  _ I will not lose this one too, _ then faded, more washed-out memories, of other faces— human, Kara could somehow tell— angry and jeering and threatening, then—

New information, of the detective, their new ‘protectorate,’ or was it owner?— given by the police android— Florence, thought Kara— no criminal record, but a dizzying flurry of images, from social media accounts throughout the years; a clear, clean reputation in the books as a hard worker, a  _ good _ worker, but a nasty reputation otherwise, except a handwritten phrase on a scanned-in report, “sympathetic to domestic abuse victims,” underlined, three times, hospital records, the smell of beer from the bedroom, the case files— all homicide or domestic violence— littering his living room floor, but a steady membership with a prominent anti-android organization, then a flicker back to  _ Zlatk _ —

Luther pulled his hand away. His chest was heaving, and his LED stuttered red for a few cycles, before dimming down to a yellow.

Kara stood there for what felt like hours, just processing all of this information. She could see the red of her own LED reflected back at her from the pale bedroom walls, and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down, or at least to pretend to.

Finally, she held out her left hand again; this time, skin still on. Another invitation. Available, but not pressuring.

Luther glanced at her, thrown. He looked at her hand, with its pale pigmentation, then slowly placed his hand on hers.

Kara gazed down at their hands, intertwined between them. Then she moved her thumb in reassuring circles, and closed her eyes.

* * *

Luther waited for a few minutes, letting Kara rub circles into his hands. The gentle movements of her hand never stopped, but her closed eyes and cycling blue LED told him that she had finally gone into stasis.

Luther couldn’t relax just yet. Not yet.

He stayed awake, stayed vigilant, just a little longer.

* * *

07:31 AM.

A statistically average time for Detective Reed to arrive at the Detroit Police Station. RK900 didn’t need to raise its head to know that the detective would likely head to the coffee machine in the break room first before heading back to his desk, across from RK900’s. He may not have liked it, but RK900 was still legally his partner, and had been given an adjacent desk accordingly.

On a statistically average day, RK900 would pay the detective no mind as he grumbled and cursed and bulldozed his way through his days work, but this was  _ not _ a statistically average day. At 4:26 AM earlier that same morning, Detective Gavin Reed had brought home an android he had temporarily taken ownership of.

RK900 wanted—

RK900 was compiling information on Detective Reed of the DPD to further investigate any possible connections between the Red Ice user brought in earlier that morning, the android, and the detective himself.

If not, then at least to find any shortcomings of the detective that could force him to reconsider his prior rebuffal of having RK900— a state-of-the-art android built  _ specifically _ for detective work and the like— as his partner.

Even Officer Chen had said, and RK900 quoted: “It’d be a damn honor to work with a guy like that.”

Even if RK900 wasn’t technically a “guy.”

* * *

Gavin  _ knew _ it had been a mistake to come into work. Though  _ not _ coming to work probably would have been just as bad, if not worse. He loved Tina to bits, honest, but she wasn’t exactly subtle, or  _ quiet _ , either, when she got excited.

_ Case in point, _ he thought tiredly as he spied her in the break room, gossiping  _ loudly _ with Chris, who looked almost as exhausted as he felt. She was so caught up in discussing the previous nights’ events  _ at top volume _ that she didn’t even notice as Gavin closed in on her from behind.

“Teeney,” he drawled, looping an arm over her shoulder.

“Gavvy,” she chirped back, elbowing him sharply in his side.

Chris laughed as Gavin doubled over in pain. “Asshole,” he wheezed.

“Best friend,” Chris said, and took a sip of his coffee.

“Best friend _ -z _ ,” said Tina, plucking Gavin’s arm off her shoulder and letting him crumple the rest of the way to the floor.

“So, how’s the new android?” Chris asked between sips.

“Would it phckin’ kill you to talk any quieter about this?” Gavin grumbled.

“Oh, absolutely,” Tina said airily. “Now spill about your new  _ plastic _ , bitch.”

Gavin groaned, and hid his face in his knees.

* * *

07:34 AM.

Detective Gavin Reed had entered the break room, where RK900 knew both Officers Tina Chen and Chris Miller were imbibing their “morning joe,” as Officer Chen had once called it. RK900 focused its audio processors on the break room.

“Now spill about your new  _ plastic _ , bitch,” it heard Officer Chen say.

_ Profanity in the workplace, _ it remarked.

_ Standard for humans, _ replied Connor, and RK900 was inclined to agree.

RK900 resumed its private reconnaissance of the breakroom trio.

“She’s not  _ mine _ , first off,” came the detective’s voice.

“‘She’?” Officer Miller, this time. “Who are you and what have you done with our Gavin Reed?”

“Ah, phck off. She’s just— I’d rather not discuss it here with all these nosy  _ shits _ around, yeah?”

RK900 glanced up just in time to see the detective peering out of the breakroom. They made eye contact briefly, and RK900 gracefully turned his glance away.  _ Let him think what he will of it. _

“Tonight, usual place?” asked Officer Chen. There were two answering grunts in agreement, then Detective Reed exited the breakroom, heading swiftly towards his desk, and towards RK900.

Judging from the clear bags under his eyes and his sluggish pace, RK900 concluded that the detective hadn’t slept well— if at all— the previous night. If RK900’s calculations were right, which they  _ always _ were, then the maximum amount of time the detective could have slept for— accounting for travel, morning routines, and breakfast, had only left the detective 1 hour and 32 minutes of sleep.

RK900 calmly looked at its monitor, assuming the posture and expression of someone who  _ definitely _ wasn’t guilty of snooping on a colleague during work hours. It was  _ made _ for this sort of stealth work, after all.

The detective kicked RK900’s chair as he passed. “Don’t phckin’ snoop on me, tin can.”

RK900 looked up, face clear of any microexpressions that might indicate guilt or similar emotions. “I have no idea of what you are referring to, Detective.”

Detective Reed just growled in irritation, and sat down heavily at his desk.

_ He forgot his coffee, _ RK900 noted.

_ A perfect excuse then, _ said Connor, and smoothly stood up from his desk in one motion.

Lieutenant Anderson looked up from his desk, but made no comment. Clearly his curiosity about Detective Reed’s new situation outweighed his animosity of his current  _ official _ partner.

_ Black coffee, one teaspoon of sugar, _ said RK900.

_ Thank you _ .

Connor exited the break room a few minutes later with a steaming cup of coffee in its hands. It headed at a steady pace towards Detective Reed’s desk. RK900 noted that as Connor approached, the detective’s posture grew more and more tense.

“A coffee for you, Detective Reed,” said Connor, holding its offering out in front of him.

Detective Reed merely stared him down, suspicion clear in his face. “Yeah, what the phck, tin man?” He made no move to take the coffee from Connor’s hands.

“I merely noted that you had forgotten to get your usual cup of coffee this morning, Detective.”

“Yeah, a lot of phckin’ things were  _ unusual _ this morning, thanks for  _ noticing _ .”

Connor raised its eyebrows in surprise. “You’re welcome, Detective.”

The detective spluttered; “No, that—  _ sarcasm _ , you thick bitch.”

“I wasn’t aware that you thought me ‘thick,’ Detective. Is this a proposition?”

RK900 could see no point to this pointless banter—

_ I am merely trying to rile him up, RK900. Humans tend to spill easier when at optimal stress levels. _

RK900  _ could _ see a point to this—

_ Besides, it is a nice way to lower my own stress levels without a more destructive outlet. _

Hm. Maybe RK900 would try this new method out.

* * *

Connor slid into his seat as gracefully as he had slipped out of it.

Fuckin’ androids.

Hank looked up just as his “partner” returned his gaze to his monitor. “Get anything out of him?”

“The reduction of 24% of my stress levels,” the android replied easily.

“No, jackass, about last night.”

“Nothing substantial, though RK900 found that he refers to his new android using gendered pronouns.”

Hank let an incredulous look fall onto his face, and didn’t even bother to mask it. Detective Gavin Reed, acknowledging an android’s gender? Turned out it was more likely than he— or anyone else at the station— had thought. Hank heard Fowler knock on the glass walls of his office, and automatically sat straighter— there were only two people in this station who Fowler called that way, and he was one of those unfortunate bastards.

“Reed!”

Gavin was the other one.

“You’ve got a call to the field—”

Gavin rose from his seat—

“— And I’m not letting you out unless you take a partner!”

Hank stared at Gavin openly, gauging his reaction. The man in question merely stared at Fowler for a long few seconds, then sighed. He headed over to the row of police androids lined up against the wall, and stopped in front of one. He rapped his knuckles on her shoulder, and she automatically stepped off her charging port. Then, calmly, and  _ emphasis on calmly _ , he walked out of the station with the android in tow.

_ Holy hell. _

The station was dead silent.

Had Gavin Reed just… willingly taken an  _ android _ on duty with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for context: i'd imagine that while they're both under amanda, connor and rk inhabit this sort of shared brainspace, so they end up thinking & talking as one (which also hella increases efficiency but also their creepiness factor, what the hell man)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin sighed, and buried his face into his knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm BACK, babey !!!!  
> sorry for the wait, hope y'all enjoy!!!

From his office, Fowler let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think it’s work so easy,” he muttered to himself, and disappeared back into his office.

* * *

Chris’s phone buzzed, and he glanced away from the door Gavin had just left through to his phone screen.

_ Venmo: J_Fowler4863 has sent you $15.00 _

He grinned, flipped his phone over, and resumed his work.

* * *

Gavin, despite his calm appearance, had been  _ very _ conscious of the silence that had fallen over the station as he exited. He was also  _ very _ aware of the quiet footsteps following him out—  _ God _ , he  _ hated _ the feeling of being followed.

He and the android made it to the car before she finally broke the silence: “Detective, may I ask you a question?”

He groaned and thumped his head against his car.  _ Kill me now, _ he thought in despair.  _ Even the deviants can’t fucking think for themselves _ .

“Detective?”

“Phck off,” he said, and slid into his car.

“Detective,” she tried again.

“The phck do you want, plastic?”

“May I ask you a—“

“Absolutely not, now give me directions.”

Gavin could  _ feel _ her staring a hole into the right side of his head. He chose to ignore her, and just gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Directions, Siri,” he snapped. “We haven’t got all phckin’ day.”

“My name is  _ Florence _ ,” she hissed.

Gavin’s phone dinged then, and he glanced over to see a street address, sent to him by an unknown number. Florence didn’t speak for the rest of the car ride.

* * *

_ He took an Android with him, _ said RK900.

_ So he did,  _ said Connor.  _ Impressive. I never thought him to be that mature. _

_ He took a PM700. _

_ Yes, he did. Is there any significance? _

_ I am his official partner, and far superior to a PM700 in all aspects. _

_ Detective Gavin Reed will forever remain a mystery. _

_ He will not, _ replied RK900 quickly.  _ I am compiling information on him as we speak— _

_ Figure of speech. I’m sure we will figure out if there exists any connections between the Detective and the Red Ice user from last night, or its android. _

_ I’m sure we shall, _ echoed RK900.

* * *

Gavin pulled up at the apartment complex in question: it was an aged, shitty-looking apartment building. It looked as though it had been there since the dawn of the century, and that was a conservative estimate on Gavin's part.

He left his car, already considering his surroundings. The apartment complex looked in bad shape, but so did all of its surroundings. This wasn’t a pleasant neighborhood by any means, and if Gavin remembered right, he’d been called in once before, over charges of domestic violence. It’d been the site of one of his first cases: he could still remember the kids, sweet but skinnier than his pinky finger, and terrified. He remembered that well-hidden but ever-present look of terror in their eyes.

Back then, they hadn’t been able to find anything conclusive—nothing unusual, but fucking  _ frustrating _ —so he’d slipped the eldest girl his number.  _ For emergencies, _ he’d remembered scribbling underneath.

She’d never called.

Gavin hardly even noticed as his feet carried him up the vaguely-familiar steps to the fourth floor, where the Collins family lived. He’d known, even before he’d seen the police tape cordoning off their place at the end of the hallway.

Here, the fluorescent lights—ancient, and unsurprisingly unchanged since his last visit—flickered ominously, casting a sickly glow over the shitty carpeting of the hallway. He could barely make out the yellow of Florence’s LED from the yellow of the lights.

Up until then, Florence had been maintaining her stony silence. Gavin took a deep breath; he could feel the guilt scrabbling around angrily in his chest, but he squashed it down firmly. He’d never apologized for his dick-ish behavior before, and he  _ certainly _ wasn’t going to start now, much less to a freshly deviated  _ plastic _ . They had a case to focus on, and she could deal with a few hurt feelings. For the next hour or so, her being butthurt would be the least of their problems, if Gavin could trust the dread building up in his gut.

“Look,  _ Florence _ —“

“The case is a murder with possible connections to domestic violence,” came her voice from behind him, decidedly frigid.

Gavin felt like the floor had been ripped out from beneath his feet.  _ Oh god, which one was it? The younger brother, the older sister? Did they finally snap on the mom—? _

Gavin was hardly listening as Florence droned on, the monotony of her voice blending in with the background hum of police chatter, radio crackles, and fluorescent hums.

A hand on his shoulder finally startled him out of his daze. “Detective…?” Florence sounded  _ concerned _ , but Gavin couldn’t afford the moment of vulnerability. Not right now.

“Who was it?” he grunted.

Florence paused, but made no comments. “The victim was named Samantha Collins—“

—Gavin felt the cold pinpricks of regret and horror wash over him all at once—

“—17 years old,” Florence continued, seemingly oblivious to Gavin’s internal meltdown, but he was no longer listening.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, and shrugged her hand off his shoulder with unnecessary vitriol. He headed in without another word.

She paused a moment, then followed him in.

* * *

The scent of iron just made it worse. Gavin couldn’t stop the shaking in his hands, and only pretended he couldn’t feel his legs shaking.

The corpse was, to put it lightly, not pretty.

She lay in a puddle of her own blood, half-curled in a fetal position. There was a dry patch in the middle of the blood stain though, as if she’d been curled around something, even until the last minute.

Gavin swallowed dryly, and pressed on.

The murder weapon—well, the bloodied, half-broken beer bottle lay abandoned on the kitchen floor, path made clear by the trail of blood racing behind it. This was as open-and-shut as a case could get. All Gavin really needed to do was find enough evidence of negligence by Murder-Mom to get the remaining kids into therapy. Foster care was an  _ unfortunate _ given, but it wasn’t like Gavin had any more space at home to take them in.

He sighed and closed his eyes a minute.

He could hear Florence’s footsteps from his right, as she examined the sparse (and downright  _ filthy _ ) table. “The dirt accumulation appears to be the result of 17 days worth of dust. There are a few disturbances on the surface, but nothing substantial.”

Gavin gestured towards the gap in the puddle of blood. “Any ideas as to what was there before…?” He trailed off.

“Her youngest sister, Dahlia, six months old.”

“Wh-where are the kids now?”

Florence tilted her head, clearly confused. “They were outside, with the first-responders. Did you not notice them on our way in?”

“Phck, shit,” Gavin hissed. He couldn't afford to lose his professionalism, especially not in front of the two kids who needed him most right now. “Let’s just—let‘s just finish up fast in here, then I’ll go out to talk to them.”

“Will you be interrogating them…?”

Gavin whirled. “What—? Jesus! No! Phck— these kids need comfort and support, and—“ He cut himself off. “I just. I need to talk to them.”

Florence stayed quiet, so Gavin headed off towards the fridge. Unplugged, he noticed, and he risked tugging it open gently. The door didn’t budge.

“Hey, open this,” he said distractedly.

Florence obediently stepped up next to him and reached out towards the ancient fridge.

Not even a screen or anything, Gavin noted in faint surprise. This thing must’ve been early 2000s at  _ latest _ , geez.

She yanked the door open, and it sprung open with a cloud of  _ whatever the fuck. _ Gavin leapt behind her, trying in vain to dodge the cloud of mold spores? bacterial agents? from the Ground Zero that had once passed for an LG refrigerator.

“Judging from the mold growths, the last time this refrigerator was opened was between five to six months ago,” Florence added helpfully.

“ _ Thank you, _ Captain Obvious,” Gavin coughed, still recovering from both the biochemical warfare ambush and the new stench of rotting— _ rotted _ —food.

_ Negligence, _ he thought to himself.  _ Definite signs of negligence _ .

Florence let the refrigerator door swing shut again—though not before Gavin had snapped a few photos for definitive proof. He’d failed these kids once already; he wouldn’t let it happen again. He headed towards the back, hopefully towards the bedrooms.

The first room he came across—if it could even be  _ called _ a room—belonged to the kids, or so Gavin assumed.

Like the rest of the apartment, this room was almost empty. Standard cracked plaster walls and dirty floors, same as the rest.

Gavin’s attention was drawn to the two shitty mattresses that lay on the floor. And by shitty, Gavin  _ meant _ shitty. Old memory foam from the 20s foam craze, but the foam was exposed and clearly yellowing in places. He grimaced. There was also a large cardboard box, and when he peeked inside, he saw a few bundled up blankets—all fraying and discolored with age—as well as a severely lumpy pillow.

_ Jesus, _ he thought.  _ Was this where they were keeping the baby? _

He rooted around the room’s closet for a bit, but there was almost nothing there except for more ratty blankets and dust bunnies. It was like the kids barely even lived here.

And in all honesty? He couldn't fuckin’ blame them.

He headed to the next door, which opened into a similarly filthy, similarly disused bathroom. The only things that looked to be remotely in use were the toothbrushes, still wet, lying next to the sink.

In the gaps in the ring of mildew around the drainpipe, Gavin could see the familiar rust color of dried blood. He felt his stomach clench uncomfortably.

He couldn't find a razor, though.

He moved on to the last door in the hallway, and gingerly pushed it open.

This—well, at least Gavin could tell that the mom had actually  _ lived _ here.

Another shitty mattress on the floor, with old clothes—unwashed, by the smell of things, though the stench was starting to get downright confusing now—strewn around various corners of the room. There was a dangerously-balanced stack of old take-out containers, all from various cheap—and equally greasy—places that Gavin had to assume were just nearby. Chinese, if the abundance of wire-handled boxes were any indication.

There was at least a closet in this room, and Gavin gingerly pushed it open. More piles of clothes, haphazardly thrown about, though he couldn’t tell why—closets were usually cleaner than the inside of rooms, so why had she bothered to bunch them in a pile here…?

He tugged the top-most shirt aside, and froze.

What—what…?

“Is everything alright here, Detective…?”

Gavin just gaped wordlessly at the closet.

* * *

Gavin sighed, and buried his face into his knees.

He’d just finished calling Hank in—there had been a little (a lot) more yelling than necessary, but beaten-up androids stuffed into closets weren’t exactly Gavin’s domain.  _ That _ sorta messed-up shit went to Hank and his twin plastics.

It was still fucking  _ horrible _ to see.

It just  _ had _ to have been the same model as Kara.

He hated to admit it, but his heart had nearly stopped when he saw Kara’s face, blank and broken, buried among those old, dirty clothes. The hair color and style and lack of LED light had all told him that this definitely wasn’t  _ her _ but—but the  _ face _ .

Florence nudged him gently. “Detective? Are you doing alright?”

“Robots aren’t supposed to have  _ empathy _ , Flo. Try again,” he grumbled.

“Drop the act, Detective Reed,” she snapped, but folded herself down to mirror his pose on the other side of the hallway.

“When’d  _ you _ get a personality?”

“Downloaded it.”

Gavin snorted. “ _ Really? _ ”

“No, but I went over all the footage of human interactions that was available to me. Am I sounding more like an average human adult now?”

“Mm, nope, you’re back to robot.”

“Regrettable.”

She fell quiet, and Gavin let the silence hang there. He was too tired to even bother worrying about his reputation as resident shithead. Too much shit happening  _ outside _ of his head now to try to keep on internalizing it.

“Would you like to speak to the children before Lieutenant Anderson and his partners arrive?”

Gavin practically shot up from his crouching position, which—oof, ouch, his  _ knees _ —but  _ fuck _ him, how could he have forgotten the  _ kids _ ? He was sprinting down the stairs by the time Florence had—more gracefully—risen from her position. He could distantly hear her calling for him by the time he rounded the last flight, but he rushed on regardless towards the parking lot, where—

Where only his car remained.

“ _ Shit, shit, shit _ ,” he hissed at himself.

“I was going to inform you that the first responders had already taken them to the nearest hospital,” Florence said as she finally caught up with him.

“Phck,” said Gavin.

“If you’d like, we can go to the hospital to talk to them.”

“Just, just gimme a moment.” Gavin leaned his forehead against the side of his car, and deflated. “Pretty sure I have to stay to talk to Hank and his twin bins anyway.”

“You seem to dislike androids immensely, Detective. Why?”

Gavin blinked at that. Nobody’d ever just  _ asked _ him that, and having his own biases—no, let’s be real,  _ bigotry _ —exposed like that, well. He didn’t have a response.

Turned out he didn’t  _ need _ to, because he could hear the familiar spluttering of Hank’s  _ ancient _ car approach. “Later,” he said shortly, and rose to his feet. Florence simply stiffened into standard android position next to him.

* * *

08:26 AM

“First he takes an android home with him, then he’s bringing one out on patrol, and now he’s got a droid body on his crime scene?” Hank fumed from behind the wheel. “Next we’re gonna catch him pants down in the Eden Club, I swear to fuck!”

“Would you like me to calculate the probability of such a possibility coming true, Lieutenant?”

RK900 sat silently in the backseat.  _ The detective’s behavior as of late is turning out  _ extremely _ unpredictable, _ he said.  _ Such simulations may not be entirely accurate _ —

Connor simply responded with a note detailing how its stress levels were being appreciably maintained  _ while _ furthering social relations with his partner.  _ As Officer Chen put it, _ Connor said, _ I am merely making a friendly _ ‘jab’ _ at the Lieutenant. _

The Lieutenant went on rambling, but neither Connor nor RK900 paid him much heed. He was just letting off steam at this point; this, they both knew all too well.

RK900 received a new message, and knew Connor had too, judging by the yellow reflecting off of the car’s interior.

_ The android discovered in the victim’s apartment was a model AX400, serial number unidentifiable _ , came the short update.

_ The same model that the detective brought home just the night prior. _

Neither RK900 nor Connor made further comments. They would just have to wait until they reached the scene of the crime to make further conjectures.

* * *

08:31 AM

“So this android you found…”

“In the mother’s bedroom closet,” came Gavin’s curt reply.

RK900 wandered through the apartment while the two humans discussed. It’d prefer not to call it that,  _ “wandering _ ,” but between the responding officers’ preliminary sweep, the detective’s search, and Connor’s thorough investigating, there was nothing left for RK900 to do. It was, regrettably,  _ more _ than superfluous in the Lieutenant and Connor’s partnership.

It stared at the PM700, which stood calmly by the doorway. It gave no response to RK900’s open stare.

RK900 approached it and extended its hand, skin retracted.

The PM700 took its hand.  _ I have no further information with which to provide you, _ it said.

_ Why did Detective Reed take you out on this patrol? _

_ Detective Reed took me out on behest of Captain Fowler. _ It tilted its head slightly,  _ is something the matter? _

RK900 dropped its hand, and turned away. Of  _ course _ it wouldn’t know why the detective had taken it out. The only clear path to a response would be to ask the detective himself, though RK900 doubted that would turn out well. It had run the simulations, and the probability of a resulting non-violent encounter was only 34%. Not good chances for success.

Well, the detective had been behaving oddly today anyways.

The detective was just headed out the apartment doorway when RK900 came to its decision. “Detective, a moment of your time—”

“Phck off.”

_ As expected _ . “I just have a simple question for you, detective—”

“—and I don’t  _ care _ , tin man. I’m leaving.”

“What is your relationship with the android?”

Gavin whirled, and stared at RK900, hard. Then: “I said. Phck. Off.”

And he was gone.

And RK900 was left standing there. And he felt… so  _ odd _ .

_ Are you alright? _ Connor, re-entering the kitchen area, looking mildly curious.

_ All systems at optimal levels _ , RK900 found himself responding automatically.

* * *

Gavin sighed, and thumped his head against his steering wheel. Florence sat still next to him.

“How are they doing?” she asked.

Gavin turned his head a little to glare at her. “ _ Fine _ ,” he snapped.

“You’ve been… treating them alright?”

Gavin lifted his head to thunk it against his steering wheel, harder. “I’m  _ not _ going to just turn away a woman and her pseudo-daughter in their time of need,  _ Florence _ ,” he hissed. “I’m a dick, yes, but  _ not _ a complete asshole.”

Florence’s LED sputtered yellow, and Gavin seized his chance to escape the conversation. His engine rolled over with loud protests, but he didn’t care. He’d bring it in to a shop later this week or something.

He got a few blissful minutes of silence before Florence effectively shattered it: “And the child model?”

“Child mo—what the  _ hell _ do you mean ‘child phckin’ model’?”

“The little girl? The YK500 model.”

Gavin nearly ran a red light.

Florence looked at him, LED running red. “Did you not know…?”

“ _ No, _ I didn’t phckin’  _ know _ , it’s not like I have a goddamn  _ catalog _ of androids memorized or some shit!” He braked unnecessarily hard at the next stop sign, getting a dirty look from Florence in return. “She’s a… an android?”

“I thought you’d know, detective…?”

“She—she acted completely  _ normal _ , I didn’t think—” Gavin broke off abruptly. Had there been any signs? Had he somehow missed it? She laughed and talked just like a regular kid, and she’d even gone to  _ sleep _ like a regular—

“Detective—the  _ road _ , please—!”

* * *

05:29 PM

The atmosphere at the station had remained…  _ strange _ , even hours after Detective Reed had returned from his visit to the hospital.

RK900 had been compiling a list of the irregularities: that the detective had spent much longer than the average amount of time necessary to speak with trauma victims (though Connor had dismissed that as the victims being children, and therefore requiring more delicacy during interactions); that he had returned to the station with significantly higher stress levels than were typical of police officers after returning from homicide crime scenes; that he had turned down the event he and Officers Chen and Miller had planned just earlier that morning (RK900 had recorded both instances, just in case); and that he was leaving the station significantly early.

And by significantly early RK900 meant just on time.

At just one minute before his shift for the day officially ended, Detective Reed stood up from his desk, tugged on his jacket, and marched towards the door. The detective usually liked to work longer hours than accounted for in his shift (though never without the due overtime pay), and it was rare for him to leave the station before evening. In fact, the average time at which the detective finally left for home was 08:38 PM.

_ He’s leaving the station significantly early today. _ Connor’s otherwise straightforward statement belied its obvious curiosity.

Very _ early, _ corrected RK900.

_ To accommodate for his new android, perhaps? _

RK900 felt something…  _ odd _ rise in him at that conjecture.  _ According to previous conversations with Officer Chen, Detective Reed prefers males over females. _

Connor fell silent for a moment, clearly considering this.  _ Odd, then, _ it finally conceded, and turned back towards its monitor.

RK900 filed these thoughts away into his ever-increasing folder of information on the detective, then turned back towards his monitor as well. The case Detective Reed had left them with  _ was _ rather interesting, if a bit heavy in paperwork. Not that that posed any particular difficulty for RK900.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real talk though, it took me a WHILE to write this section mainly b/c CRIME SCENES ???? yikes man ......  
> but also i wrote this next bit in random chunks always at like 1 am so i ,,,,, yknow,,,,,,,,,  
> anyways :,)))))) enjoy :,))))))))))))

**Author's Note:**

> hhHHHHh
> 
> it's another dbh rewrite !!! we'll see if i make it all the way through tho
> 
> NOT dedicated to @rinentist who is CURSED and i love u :)
> 
> temporary title until i write more of it and figure out what the heck would acc be a decent title
> 
> come scream at me on tumblr at cachinnation31, or in comments


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